


Olivia Vs. That One Feral Prufrock Cat - An Olivia/ASOUE Essay

by gray_zelle



Category: A Series of Unfortunate Events (TV)
Genre: gray's asoue essays, gray's olivia essays, there's cats!!! one cat!!!! he's an ass
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-28
Updated: 2019-05-28
Packaged: 2020-03-26 07:04:33
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,238
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19000789
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gray_zelle/pseuds/gray_zelle
Summary: #1 of my essays/recounts/whatever about Olivia Caliban (Netflix edition) and other ASOUE characters, etc. i'm olivia-calidamn on tumblr.Prufrock has its fair share of feral cats that visit from time to time. Olivia, resident strange librarian and cat (and dog!) lover, usually gets along with them. But there was once a cat that turned up and made her life hell.





	Olivia Vs. That One Feral Prufrock Cat - An Olivia/ASOUE Essay

Strange as it may sound, Prufrock has seen its fair share of feral cats in the time it’s been open for. Every now and then, wicked and horrible people take their cats on a drive to the dying forest close to the grounds, throw them out, and let them fend for themselves in clans of ferocious felines, like what they descended from.

Some of them go into Prufrock, knowing its resident strange librarian leaves food outside her dorm room door. Because Olivia’s always been a cat and dog person - she swings both ways - though cats turn up at Prufrock more. When librarian and cat meet, sometimes, Olivia usually convinces them to return, and stay clear of Prufrock’s feral humans, and feed them. All the cats seem to like her. 

One feral cat that hung around, once, though? It sure didn’t. 

It took a vendetta on Olivia the moment he laid eyes on her. She eventually figured she looked like his previous and horrible owner, to explain the way he treated her - though she once wondered if even said owner deserved his hellraising.

He was a muscular cat, a big, chunky boy, and Olivia proudly told him that when he first strode into the staff dorm area, like he owned it. He had stopped, looked right at her, and then three seconds later, Olivia’s outstretched hand was bleeding. 

The nurse laughed when she explained what happened. She told her that a cat  _ that  _ rude, as Olivia put it, wouldn’t befriend her anytime soon. 

But Olivia tried again, since she didn’t mind a challenge every now and then. Her next cuts were deeper. And she started feeling paranoid about diseases. 

So the next time Olivia, making her way to the library, saw him striding through the dorms, she said nothing. It kind of stung, not talking to a cat like she often did (receiving weird looks from everyone), but she figured the nurse was right. 

She really was. He started chasing Olivia up to the school. 

Students laughed when Olivia, swatting a book at the air above him, had to half sprint in her heels to stop him grabbing her ankles. They hollered when Olivia almost collided with Nero in the hallway; he tried to tell her off. Olivia stopped, hoping the cat would pounce on him instead, though received a  _ painstaking  _ swipe to her shins. Nero attempted to kick him, and she yelled at him for it, tears stinging in her eyes from pain, humiliation and anger. 

After another nurse office trip, and her ten library minutes icing the even deeper wounds, Olivia knew there was nothing she could do about that cat. 

And that cat  _ loved  _ the fact. 

She wouldn’t go near him. He, however, haunted her like a pint-sized-yet-chunky schoolyard bully, and terrorised her whenever he could. 

Staff and students soon grew used to Olivia scrambling onto window sills, and wielding books as literal weapons while she ventured to the library. He worked out which dorm was hers, and sometimes would wait at the front door for her to leave, forcing her out the bedroom window, and running before he noticed she was gone. Then he started hanging at the window instead. 

This was the first cat Nero had discovered, as Olivia, the only staff member who paid attention to them, had kept them a secret for her entire Prufrock tenure. Which was harder work than her actual job. So Olivia had expected the cat to “mysteriously” disappear one night (or turn up poisoned on her dormstep, as some sick, sick present). 

It didn’t. Nero ended up finding ways to  _ encourage  _ the cat to stay. At least, that’s the epiphany Olivia had while tipsy one Friday night, with her head and record player spinning, the soft music drowned out by familiar yowls to the moon. 

She tried to think of ways to get rid of it herself. Humane ones, of course, though she would admit, she’d considered poison once or twice. She thought of finding a tranquiliser gun, shooting its chunkiness, and taking it on a trolley trip to the Hinterlands. The only problems were: she had no idea where to source a tranquiliser gun, and hadn’t the money for it, or the certainty that she wouldn’t accidentally shoot herself with it. 

There was always luring it in with more food, slipping it into a sack, and sending it deep into the forest beside Prufrock. Which Olivia tried at least three times. 

Over all the ordeals, Olivia received thirteen scratches that stung more than before, hessian burns and bruises from the cat thrashing around in the sack, and hitting her shins and arms, and a muscle strain from trying to hold that chunkiness. 

Oh, and of course another helping of humiliation. 

It didn’t help that the cat was finding new ways to worsen her circumstances. He made it his number one priority, though truth be told it’s not like cats have many other things to do. 

He then started stealing Olivia’s underwear. 

She didn’t know how, exactly, but she’d found him standing on the grass near her dorm, her lacy peach bra in his mouth. Only then did she try to talk to him, making kissing noises, praising his growing chunkiness from the food she was leaving out. 

Two minutes later, she was chasing him down Prufrock’s hallway, yelling and cursing once or twice, shoving staff and students out of the way. It was the best bra she had - could you blame her? 

When she had him cornered, she tried to have him drop it. Instead, he made her watch, horrified, as he tore it to shreds. Then he simply spat part of the remains at her, scratched her shins again, and left. 

Three days later a third-year, who Olivia knew had some respect for her, turned up at her dorm door with another bra. She said nothing aside from “You’re welcome. Ignore everyone laughing,” and left. 

Olivia started locking her laundry in a spare box. She kept everything locked. Everything closed. Everything in her life safe and secure from that  _ darn cat _ . 

Though he still wouldn’t stop terrorising her. 

It got to a point where Olivia finally snapped, and found a baseball bat. With an entire audience, possibly the entire  _ school _ , Olivia chased him into the forest. Whenever he turned and tried to fight back, Olivia swatted at him (though never hit him) until he eventually realised he shouldn’t have crossed the school’s librarian. Not to this level. Not where there was a fire in her eyes, and she was yelling and screaming and cursing the vilest curses and wishing terrible fates on him. 

She followed him so deep into the forest, she ended up lost for over an hour. The entire school was still watching and waiting when she returned. Perhaps wondering if the cat had finally torn their strange librarian to shreds. 

They’d like that, Olivia decided, hitting rock bottom of her lungs with every attempt at breathing, and looking to trees that all looked the same (i.e. dead). They really would.

 

Silence fell when she finally appeared. Then they all laughed, since they never really did tire of poking fun at their librarian. Olivia said nothing, and did nothing, heaving everything that ached to her dorm room, and not coming out for a good day or two. 

 

She only snapped out of her stupor when she thought she heard a familiar yowl. 


End file.
